Much Mistletoeing
by Sneezy Mouse
Summary: Best-selling author Hermione Granger has spent the past six years touring the world to showcase her novels. Now, she receives an out-of-the-blue letter asking her to join the Weasleys for Christmas at the Burrow. A fluffy, Christmas-y FredHermione fic.
1. Much Mistletoeing 1

**Title**: _Much Mistletoeing_

**Author**: Sneezy Mouse

**Rating**: PG/PG-13 due to overwhelming Christmas fluff, slight inebriation, children out-of-wedlock (GASP!), naughty language, naughty situations (as well as some nice ones; it_ is_ Christmas after all), snogging, mistletoe and heavy sexual tension (as always...)

**Summary**: Best-selling author Hermione Granger has spent the past six years touring the world to showcase her novels. Now, she receives an out-of-the-blue letter asking her to join the Weasleys for Christmas at the Burrow. A fluffy, Christmas-y Fred/Hermione fic.

**Author's Note**: I do hope you enjoy this little story. I'm not sure how long it will be. Maybe seven, eight chapters. I'll work on it whenever I can to ensure it is finished by Christmas. Also, thanks to the HP Lexicon for letting me figure out what street Diagon Alley is supposed to be on.

* * *

**Much Mistletoeing   
**A Christmas Fic

_By Sneezy Mouse_

**● Chapter One ●**

"It's the most wonderful time of the year.   
With the kids jingle belling,   
And everyone telling you,   
"Be of good cheer,"   
It's the most wonderful time of the year..."

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year, Eddie Pola and George Wyle

December 19th

_Part One_

Hermione had almost forgotten how lovely London was during the holidays. Granted, she was only in a Terminal 2 at Heathrow Airport but she had high expectations for the rest of the city.

"Miss Granger, your luggage," a security officer said gruffly, handing over Hermione's large grey suitcase after deeming it not a security risk. Apparently, Hermione appeared to be the type of person to stash large bombs or cocaine in her luggage.

"Thank you, sir," Hermione replied politely before walking quickly away from the customs channel. Going through airport security was always a frustrating matter, especially when they tried to confiscate her wand as a weapon. It was always the same story Hermione told, though: it's a gift for her niece who is undergoing a current obsession with witches or wizards. Of course, Hermione didn't have any brothers or sisters let alone any nieces or nephews, but customs agents didn't need to know that, did they?

"Bugger," she muttered quietly under her breath when she stepped outside so she could hail a taxi. The sidewalk was full to the brim with holiday travelers trying to get to their destinations. All Hermione needed to do was get to London where she could find an Apparation point to get to hers. The blasted Ministry deemed the Heathrow Apparation point too much of a liability due to the heavy Muggle traffic it experienced during the winter hols.

Hermione delicately pushed her way through the crowd, realizing entirely at how rude this was, and waited patiently for a car to stop for her. Of course, she may as well have turned invisible because no cars were stopping for her. Noticing a cab pull over for a svelte blond girl, Hermione removed her heavy coat to reveal a lower-cut-than-she-normally-wears top and bent over to retrieve something from her suitcase, thus revealing a bit more cleavage. Her uncomfortable slut moment lasted only a few seconds, thankfully, as a car pulled over and the driver popped out to help Hermione with her bag. She pulled back on her coat just as the driver asked, "Where to, miss?"

"London, please. Charing Cross Road."

"No problem, miss, no problem at all," he said, starting the car and pulling into traffic.

Hermione blessed her driver for not trying to make small talk with her. Having been gone from her home country for almost six years, Hermione just wanted to observe and appreciate the things she had long since forgotten. The traffic, of course, being the most obvious one at the moment; but as they got closer into the heart of London with pedestrians and shoppers, more began to awaken. Like the way everyone is entirely undaunted by the slight drizzle that had begun, continuing their shopping as chattering as if it were a bright summers day. Or the delightfully confused tourists as they counted their money and tried to calculate how many pounds they had left and trying to decipher the difference between a pence and a quid.

"Sir, right here is fine," Hermione said abruptly as they were caught in a sudden dead-stop in traffic. The driver pushed the meter and Hermione handed him her payment and slipped out the car, her suitcase rolling behind her.

Sidewalk stores had their holiday decorations up and Hermione was entranced by all of them. The fluffy pillow stuffing used to simulate snow, the Insta-Sno from a can the created snowflake designs that were adorned on the windows. And then you put in the shiny bows and colorful wrapping on gift boxes that would sadly be shredded to bits come Christmas morning. Everything was sparkly, simulating that freshly-fallen snow that Londoners so rarely got to experience.

"Hermione?" someone called as Hermione was watching animatronics puppies gambol around inside a toy store. She turned and saw a handsome sandy-haired man crossing the busy street. "I thought that was you," the man said in a strikingly familiar Irish accent.

A smile lit up on Hermione's face as she realized who he was. "Seamus! Oh, it's lovely to see you!" she said, embracing her old school mate. "How are you?"

"I'm good, I'm good. I teach now, can you believe it? Just got my license!"

"Wizard or Muggle?" Hermione asked, remembering Seamus' half-blood heritage.

"Muggle. Young kids too," Seamus added. "Got to be prepared, you know, for when my own tot comes along."

"You're having a child?" Hermione asked.

"Well, not me obviously," Seamus said, grinning. "But me wife, yeah. Found out a few months ago. Going to be having a little girl; which I will spoil rotten of course."

"Of course," Hermione agreed, smiling. "Who's the mum?"

"Don't quite know if you remember her but Lisa, Lisa Turpin?" Seamus asked and upon seeing Hermione's quizzical look added, "She was a Ravenclaw in our year. I met up with her a few years ago on accident and we had lunch. We were married about a year and a half ago; small ceremony in Ireland, of course. Now we're going to have a kid! It's great. I'm babbling I'm so happy. No need to ask what you're up to though, I'm sure. Promoting another book, eh?" Seamus asked good-naturedly.

"Actually," Hermione said, pausing. "I'm here for the hols. My parents are visiting some friends in Finland so I am here to visit the Weasleys."

"Ah," Seamus said, obviously reminiscing of the red-haired brood. "How're they doing?"

Hermione frowned slightly and said, "I'm not quite sure. I haven't remained steady in contact with them since I began my book tour. I've only had brief conversations through a fireplace with Ginny and Ron. I haven't even _seen_ Harry in a good two years. I don't even know if he's going to be here or not."

Seamus looked genuinely shocked by this news and replied, "I would've never expected that. Always pictured you three staying close in touch forever. Thought you would have ended up marrying one or the other."

Hermione couldn't help but snort at this comment, causing Seamus to smile. She always got this comment, though marrying either of her best friends was never really a thought Hermione entertained for too long in her mind. Of course, while she briefly dated Ron the summer preceding and during her sixth year of school, they argued and got annoyed with each other far too much for Hermione to actually believe a marriage would work out. And with Harry, he was Harry Potter. Of course Hermione toyed with the idea of being the wife of the Boy Who Lived but her experience with Rita Skeeter in her fourth year knocked Hermione back to her senses and showed her the dangers of the press.

"Well," Hermione finally said. "Marrying either of them was never a good option. Besides - I am quite content - though busy, with the life I am currently leading."

"The books, that's right. I heard that you were a big shot writer now," Seamus said.

"Well, in the Muggle World, yes," Hermione corrected. "Everyone that is a witch or wizard already knows the stories I am writing about. The Muggles think it to be a fantasy world."

"I can't believe you profited off the tribulations we all experienced during Hogwarts," Seamus said in a tone that made Hermione realize that Seamus had not meant those words to be an insult. Just an observation.

"Well, I had Harry's permission of course," Hermione answered. "He had mentioned something about wanting to tell the world what he experienced, and I just put that plan into action. He, Ron and I had a very detailed conversation about name changes, information to be omitted for safety reasons and other such things."

"How many are out now? Four?" Seamus asked of Hermione's publications.

"Three. _Harry Potter and the Mirror of Erised_, _Harry Potter and the Heir of Slytherin_, and_ Harry Potter and the Escape from Azkaban_. All based on true events, unknown to the Muggles of course. They just think the characters are based off of old school mates and the stories just flights of fancy."

"It is quite exciting that I am in your best-selling novels, though," Seamus joked. "I also enjoy how I am sandy-haired and that my good looks are mentioned every so often as well."

"Just wait until I get to seventh year when I mention how you are dating Ginny, much to the disappointment of the rest of the girls at school," Hermione jested. "You'll be a literary sex symbol."

The pair laughed at this before Seamus realized he had to meet Lisa for a quick bite to eat.

"It was really great seeing you, Hermione," Seamus said. "Please, if you have any time, drop Lisa and I a postcard; just so we know what you're up to."

"Thank you, Seamus. It was lovely seeing you as well," Hermione responded warmly. "I'll be in the States again in the New Year. Keep an eye out."

"I will. Give my best to the Weasleys and good luck with Draco," Seamus said, waving as he walked away.

Hermione simply waved to Seamus one last time and was halfway down the block when she realized Seamus had mentioned Malfoy. Why would Hermione have to deal with Draco Malfoy, of all people? Surely he was holed up in his bloody manor, stewing over the fact Lord Voldemort had lost the war.

Pushing the unpleasant thought of Draco Malfoy out of her mind, Hermione continued her walk to her destination: The Leaky Cauldron. Hermione wondered if Tom still ran the inn and pub or if it had new ownership. She hoped it was the former, as she had too many memories for the location to be changed. Thankfully, when the dingy windows came into view, Hermione knew that everything was still the same. Opening the door slowly, the familiar scent of slightly moldy wood along with the sharp scent of alcohol, the rush of warm air from the fires and the sound of people talking welcomed Hermione into the pub. Hermione immediately recognized a few faces and gave them a friendly wave. She had a brief conversation with Tom but decided not to linger too long in the Leaky Cauldron and instead headed out the back to enter Diagon Alley.

Having received Molly Weasley's letter only two weeks ago, Hermione knew she had some shopping to do. Well aware that she wasn't entirely sure of who all would be attending this Christmas gathering, Hermione simply window shopped until her toes were almost frozen in her fur-lined boots. She was about to turn around to back into the Leaky Cauldron for a coffee or cocoa when she found herself standing right outside number ninety-three: Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

Hermione thought about going inside to see if Fred or George were working but the combination of the large 'CLOSED' sign on the window and the realization that there was more than one Wheezes in the world, the chances of either of the twins still working at this one was doubtful. However, a light turned on in the back of the store and Hermione caught a glimpse of the tell-tale red hair.

She hurried to the front door and began pounding loudly. She heard a muffled, "We're closed!" but did not desist in her pounding. Finally, the man walked to the front of the store and yanked open the door.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But we're closed for the day. We'll be open again tomo-"

"George?" Hermione ventured. She hoped she had guessed the right twin.

"Yes, I'm George Weasley. Can I help you?" he asked, looking at Hermione whom he obviously didn't recognize.

"George," Hermione said, smiling widely. "It's me, Hermione Granger. Do you remember-"

"Of course I remember you, are you daft?" George answered, taking Hermione by surprise by swooping her into a big hug. When he put her down (she was literally _lifted_ off the ground), Hermione said, "I don't think you have ever hugged me before."

"Well it's been six years since I last saw you. What did you want," George asked, "a handshake?"

"Actually, it'd be nice to get out of the cold," Hermione said. Taking her cue, George opened the door and motioned for her to go in.

It had been ages since she had been in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, but she still remembered almost all of the products. She burst out laughing when she passed the display of Canary Creams, fondly remembering all the times she would be walking innocently down the hallway when a person would just turn into a giant canary.

"I remember when Crookshanks ate a canary cream," George said, noticing the display.

"The summer after fifth year," Hermione added. "I was so mad at the two of you. Feeding my cat a joke product. You should be glad he didn't die."

George smiled and Hermione noticed the small beard he had on his face. He looked so mature now compared to the last time she had seen him. When he noticed her looking at his beard, he self-consciously ran his left hand over it, letting Hermione notice a very important ring on a very important finger. Uncharacteristically, Hermione snatched his hand and gazed at the solid gold wedding band.

"George!" she said loudly. "When did you get married?"

He laughed at her reaction before saying, "About two years ago. To Lavender Brown... now Weasley, of course."

"Lavender?" Hermione asked, shocked. "I didn't know you two were even seeing each other."

"We tried to get you an invite, but the only address we were able to get was your parents' home and the publishing company," George said, making Hermione feel awful and wonder sadly what else she missed.

"Ron hasn't gotten married yet, if you're interested," George said. "He and Luna are still together but they wanted to wait until they would be sure you'd be there."

"Oh, I've been a horrid friend, haven't I?" Hermione asked. "I tried to stay in touch, really I did. But it just got so busy when the second book came out. Suddenly _everyone_ wanted to interview me and I just... have no excuse."

"We don't hold it against you, Hermione," George said kindly. "We knew you were busy. You got a life, nothing to apologize for."

"How is Harry?" Hermione asked. The news of Ron and Luna immediately made her think of her other best friend.

George thought for a moment before answering. "He's doing much better. Obviously, the holidays are a bit hard for him; why wouldn't they be? But Jonathan is almost two now, so Harry is encompassing his life around him."

"Jonathan?" Hermione asked, confused. George's look of shock and embarrassment only helped to add to Hermione's confusion.

"You don't know?" he asked.

"Know what?"

"Well, Harry -"

"Harry what?" a familiar voice said. It took all of Hermione's energy not to burst into tears of happiness at hearing Harry Potter's voice.

"I saw the light on," Harry continued, coming closer to the pair. "Decided I'd pop in. You know an _Alohamora_ opens that door, right?"

"It wasn't locked, actually," George responded. "I forgot to lock it when Hermione and I -"

"Hermione?" Harry said, shocked. His footsteps got faster until he reached the beginning of the aisle George and Hermione were in. Hermione's tears once again almost began when she noticed a small boy with familiar green eyes and curly light brown hair in Harry's arms.

"Harry!" Hermione said, running to her old friend and crushing him in a hug. "Oh, I have missed you!"

"I've missed you too, Hermione," Harry said, smiling at Hermione. "Hermione," he added when they parted. "I'd like you to meet Jonathan. My son."

Hermione gave a sharp intake of breath, but was able to recover surprisingly quickly.

"Hello, Jonathan," Hermione said, waggling her fingers at the young boy who responded by burying his face in his father's chest.

"He's usually not this shy," Harry reassured. "Jonathan, this is Hermione. She's my best friend."

"Mum?" Jonathan asked quietly.

A distinct look of emotional pain settled briefly on Harry's face before he said, "No, not Mum. Hermione. A friend."

"Potter!" Jonathan said sharply, biting his father's hand. Harry placed the boy on the ground, warning him not to touch _anything_.

"Potter?" Hermione asked, quirking her eyebrows inquisitively.

"It's that damn Malfoy," Harry responded, watching his son peruse the aisle. "He insists on calling me 'Potter' whenever Jonathan is around. He won't call me 'Dad' anymore."

"Malfoy?"

George snorted.

"No. Jonathan," Harry answered, giving Hermione a look. "I've missed you, Hermione."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, almost too dramatically, as she wrapped her arms around Harry again. "I've missed you too. I missed _so_ much!"

And then she burst into tears.

It was quite obvious that neither George nor Harry were fully prepared for this, nor were they any more comfortable with a woman crying than they had been during their school days. George was awkwardly rubbing her shoulder, Harry her back, both muttering soothing words.

"Oh, dear," Hermione said, sniffling and pulling away. "I daresay I am a bit too emotional at the moment. But, George, you're married! Harry, you have a child. How did I not know this?"

"You were so busy, Hermione," Harry said in a tone that let Hermione know that it was okay that she was busy. "I was dating this girl, this _amazing_ girl, named Samantha and one thing led to another and we had Jonathan."

"So you weren't married?" Hermione inquired.

"No. We had plans to, but..." Harry trailed off, searching the store for little Jonathan. After deeming him far enough away to tell the story, Harry continued. "We were, thankfully, able to keep the news quiet for a good while. But somehow a member of the press found out and leaked the story to that new gossip rag that Pansy Parkinson runs."

"Oh, dear," Hermione said softly. Harry hesitated again, gathering his strength, and said, "Yeah. Pansy Parkinson. So the public found out and the press was hounding us, literally hounding us. We were driving home from dinner at a friends' house one night when a press van pulled up beside us and began snapping pictures. Obviously, I can't see when there are things flashing in my eyes and I wrapped my car around a telephone pole."

George hung his head, obviously having heard this story before but still feeling pain from it. Harry took a gulp of breath.

"Harry, you don't have to continue," Hermione said soothingly, now comforting him. "It was just like Princess Diana, wasn't it?"

"Pretty much, yes," Harry said quietly. "As we waited for help to arrive, she begged me not to let our baby die. Do whatever I could. She could die, but the Jonathan couldn't. Jon was about fourteen months old."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione whispered. "I am _so_ sorry I wasn't here for you. If I would've -"

"No, Hermione, please don't apologize," Harry replied firmly. "After Sam died, I went to stay with her parents; Muggles, you know. I wanted them to experience Jonathan with me since we had all lost someone whom we really loved. I also wanted to get away from the pity the press. I only just moved into a flat in London away from Sam's mum and step-dad in Manchester."

"Will you be spending Christmas with the Weasleys, then?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"Wouldn't miss it," Harry answered, grinning.

"Yeah," George added. "Bill and Fleur have a little one, too. She's about the same age as Jonathan. A little firecracker too. Looks just like her mum, but red-headed, and has the Weasley spunk. I think her name is Oriel."

"Where are you staying, Harry? Maybe I could get a room there as well," Hermione said.

Harry and George looked at Hermione strangely before George said, "I think there is still some room left. There's always room for one more."

Hermione opened her mouth, agape. "The Burrow?" she asked. "But surely there can't be enough room for everyone? I mean, there is Bill, Fleur, you and Lavender, you and Jonathan, Ron, Luna, Fred... if I'm not mistaken, Molly said Charlie and Tonks would be there as well and Ginny. And now me? That's -" Hermione quickly calculated. "Twelve! Plus your mum and dad, George."

"Actually," George responded. "It's quite a bit more. Percy and Katie will be there as well. Bill and Fleur have a six year old named Henry that will be there. And I'm sure Ginny is going to insist on bringing Draco to another family function."

"Draco?" Hermione asked, realization dawning on her. "Seamus mentioned something about Malfoy as well... and Harry, you said that Malfoy was always calling you 'Potter.' Don't tell me that Ginny is dating him..."

"Don't worry about that," Harry said. "She's not dating him."

Hermione visibly unclenched.

"They're engaged," George added.

Even though she was neither drinking nor eating, Hermione made a strangled, choking-like noise before moving into a slight coughing fit.

"I think this is a bit too much information to be dealing with right now," Hermione said wearily. "Children, fiancés, marriages... what else has happened?"

George laughed and replied, "Don't worry. I was about to head home. You and Harry can come and will get you all set up at the Burrow. Everyone is arriving this evening and tomorrow morning, so there will be plenty of time for you to reacquaint yourself with the goings-on of our lives."

Hermione just nodded, mulling over this information. Harry walked down to the end of the aisle where Jonathan was playing with some of the trick quills Fred and George sold. When the pair got back, Jonathan waved his tiny fingers at Hermione before once again nuzzling into Harry's chest.

"You look a bit like Sam, I suppose," Harry finally said, kissing Jonathan on the top of his head. "The hair, I think. Curly and brown. Jonathan pulled hers constantly and it drove Sam mad. He'll warm up to you, once he gets to know you."

"Does he do this a lot?" Hermione asked.

"Do what?"

"Confuse other women with his mum?" Hermione explained, hoping she hadn't overstepped her boundaries.

"Every once in awhile," Harry answered. "It used to be that he'd just ask where she was, why Mum wasn't home yet. It broke my heart that he couldn't understand. Still does, as a matter of fact."

"But the holidays will be fun, especially if Bill's daughter and him become mates," Hermione offered.

"Oh, definitely," Harry agreed. "I can't wait for everyone to meet him. Well, Ron and Ginny have, of course. So have Molly and Arthur. But the rest of the family hasn't."

"You better keep that boy away from Lavender," George warned in a good-natured tone. "If she gets a hold of him she'll start wanting one of her own. You know Lavender, Hermione, always jealous of what other people have."

Harry laughed and said, "I'll do my best. But Jonathan has already proved himself a bit of a woman magnet. I'll take him to the market and the ladies coo and fawn over him likes he's made of gold."

"Another good reason for me to not have a child," George responded. "I'd have the child, but I wouldn't be able to reap the benefits."

"Well, technically you could," Hermione pointed out. "But Lavender would most definitely beat you senseless if you did."

"She always was the jealous type," George mused.

The three exchanged a bit more small talk as George finished up organizing the paperwork he needed. Besides his beard, George had filled out his once-lanky form a bit, Hermione noticed. Of course, he was wearing an overcoat and jeans so she really couldn't be sure. And Harry had obviously aged, though he still had his skinny, too-long arms and legs for his shorter torso. Hermione was still taller than him by a good inch. Unlike George who's aging was an all-over evident occurrence, Harry only seemed aged in his face: there were small lines around his eyes and mouth and a few developing ones on his forehead; most likely, Hermione assumed, the aftereffect of losing your girlfriend and raising a child almost by himself for two years.

The appearance of these two men made Hermione wonder more than she had recently about how much everyone else must have changed.

"Okay," George said, shutting off the back light. "I've got what I came to get. You two ready to go?"

"Yes. No, Jonathan, we are not buying that," Harry said to his son whom was holding up a small stuffed snail that secreted goo when touched. Harry lifted the slug out of his son's hands and whispered to George, "Put this in my Christmas Holds box."

George nodded, placed the slug behind the counter with a small note and looked to Hermione, who hesitated in her answer.

"Yes," she finally said, resolutely. "Take me to the Burrow."

-

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**Author's Note:** There have been some rather annoying uploading problems. If there are random characters/symbols in place of other ones (like quotes turning into i and - turning into 'C ' things), please don't get angry. I went through and tried to edit them all out. If you find one, please let me know. As for the story, I know it seems a little Pumpkin Pie-ish, but there won't be any real Harry/Hermione romance. **This is Fred/Hermione all the way!** I hope to have chapter two up soon, when we'll get some wonderful F/Hr interaction as well as G/D, my new ship that I'm working on. Please review, if you can. I really would appreciate it. 


	2. Much Mistletoeing 2

**Title**: _Much Mistletoeing_

**Author**: Sneezy Mouse

**Rating**: PG/PG-13 due to overwhelming Christmas fluff, slight inebriation, children out-of-wedlock (GASP!), naughty language, naughty situations (as well as some nice ones; it_ is_ Christmas after all), snogging, mistletoe and heavy sexual tension (as always...)

**Summary**: Best-selling author Hermione Granger has spent the past six years touring the world to showcase her novels. Now, she receives an out-of-the-blue letter asking her to join the Weasleys for Christmas at the Burrow. A fluffy, Christmas-y Fred/Hermione fic.

**Author's Note**: Thanks for all the lovely reviews! I hope you like this chapter just as much. After all, the sugarplum fairies of romance have begun to dance around in Fred and Hermione's heads. Enjoy!

* * *

**Much Mistletoeing**

**● Chapter Two ●**

_"There'll be parties for hosting,  
__Marshmallows for toasting and  
__Caroling out in the snow  
__There'll be scary ghost stories and  
tales of the glories of Christmases  
long, long ago.  
It's the most wonderful time of the year."__  
__It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year__, Eddie Pola and George Wyle_

December 19th

_Part Two_

The Burrow was exactly as it had been in Hermione's memories. The light dusting of snow had not deterred the chickens or lawn gnomes from scurrying about. From the front lawn, Hermione could see Arthur?s shed where he kept all of his Muggle contraptions. Hermione hoped he enjoyed the toaster she got him for Christmas.

"Mum?" George called out when he, Harry and Hermione stepped into the house from the front porch.

"George!" Molly called out from, where else, the kitchen. She leaned her head out into the doorway, obviously preoccupied with something else. She seemed ready to ask George something, but noticed Harry and Hermione before she had a chance.

"Jonathan!" Molly called out, swooping the little boy into her arms.

"Grandma!" he replied happily.

"She has a tendency to never notice anyone but her grandchildren nowadays," George told Hermione. "And Jonathan is as good as hers. You know how she always used to coddle Harry. Don't take it personally, Hermione."

"Oh dear!" Molly cried, actually taking notice of Hermione after George said her name. She rushed over, Jonathan still in her arms, and hugged Hermione. A familiar rush of breathlessness followed. Hermione never thought she'd miss being choked by Molly Weasley.

"I am so sorry, dear," Molly said, releasing Hermione and readjusting her hold on Jonathan. "How have you been, Hermione? Oh, I was so happy when he responded to my letter saying you were coming. You are staying here, are you not? Oh, of course you are. And Percy and Katie will be here as well! The whole family will be here. Arthur! Arthur, Hermione's here!" Molly yelled suddenly, causing Hermione to give a bit of a start.

"Hermione?" Arthur's voice came from the sitting room. Soon, Arthur's shiny bald head was poking in the kitchen and he smiled warmly when he saw Hermione standing between George and Harry. He puttered towards Hermione, his cane still in use from her seventh year, and hugged her like a father.

"It's lovely to see you, Hermione," Arthur said. "As always, of course. And Harry, I'm assuming you brought Jonathan?"

"I have him, Arthur," Molly said, still holding onto the young boy. Arthur went over and the two Weasley grandparents began what was to be a whole week of spoiling the young Potter boy.

"Is Ron out in the yard?" George asked.

Molly nodded. "Luna is out there with him, of course. Fred, Bill and Fleur are as well. Oriel and Henry are napping upstairs. Henry was all tuckered out from playing earlier in the morning."

Taking his cue from Hermione's expression at "Ron," George excused the three of them and walked out into the backyard.

It was so comforting to see that very little about the Weasley backyard had changed. There was still the giant picnic table they had eaten dinner at the night before the Quidditch World Cup in fourth year. There were garden gnomes, of course and in the distance Hermione could see the reeds surrounding the small pond. It was probably iced over by now and Hermione hoped she'd be able to skate on it before the week was over. But by far, the best thing about the back yard was the tall, gangly red haired boy that appeared to be trying to unstick a garden gnome that had bitten down on his hand.

"Stupid bugger!" Ron Weasley yelled, flailing his arm about. "Get the hell off of me!"

With one last dramatic flail, Hermione noticed that a small potato with legs was currently flying right towards her head.

"Duck!" Ron yelled.

"Jesus, Ron!" Harry yelled. "I would've thought you would have been happier to see Hermione. Throwing garden gnomes at her, honestly."

"Shut up!" Ron yelled, looking at Hermione and grinning. "It's been awhile."

"It has," Hermione agreed, opening her arms too give Ron a hug. He reciprocated, which made Hermione remember all the times when she showed emotion and Ron got twitchy. He seemed secure with her emotions now, or it could be that it's been ages since he's seen Hermione.

"You don't have any huge news, do you?" Hermione asked when their hug ended.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"Well," Hermione explained. "George is married; Harry has a child... things of that nature."

"No, Hermione," Ron said as Luna walked up and he laced his fingers with hers. "Luna and I are still _just _engaged. And as far as I know, we don't have a child."

Luna eyed Ron with a dreamy look that Hermione wasn't quite sure of the meaning. Surely they couldn't... no. Because Luna was now giving everyone else that dreamy look. At least one thing hasn't changed, in Hermione's opinion: Luna was still completely nutters.

"How are you, Luna?" Hermione asked, not sure how a hug would be received by the other girl.

"The snorkack sightings are becoming few and far between," Luna responded with a sigh. "They're numbers are dwindling."

"Oh," Hermione said, wondering if her question was answered or not. She gave Ron a quizzical look and he smiled.

"Luna's wonderful," he said. "Subscriptions to _The Quibbler_ are getting higher every month."

"Ever since Daddy retired, I have been running the magazine," Luna explained.

"How wonderful," Hermione responded. She still didn't hold _The Quibbler _in too high of regard, even after what it did for Harry in fifth year. As far as Hermione was concerned, it was still just rubbish... but Luna ran it and Ron loved Luna. Hermione wasn't going to cause dissention. Instead, she finally acknowledged Fred Weasley, who had been standing off to the side since she began talking with Ron.

"It's great to see you, Fred," Hermione said, smiling widely. He opened his arms and Hermione gladly reciprocated the hug.

"You smell like fire," Hermione said, voice slightly muffled.

"What?" Fred asked, obviously taken aback by this comment.

Hermione laughed at Fred's face - a mixture of amusement and not knowing whether or not to be insulted - before responding.

"I meant, like wood and smoke."

"Oh," Fred said. "Dad decided he wanted a Muggle fire in the fireplace this morning. So I had to walk into the woods, cut some wood, start a fire _without _a wand - setting myself on fire _twice_, I might add - all because Dad wanted something special to welcome you here. So really, it's entirely your fault."

"Well, don't worry," Hermione replied. "I make it up to you somehow. Besides, it's a good smell. Masculine."

With his chest puffed just a bit, Fred answered this with a gruff cough and said, "Well, it fits then. Now if you need me, I'll be doing more _manly_ things. Like... helping my mother cook."

Hermione watched him walk back into the house. As soon as the door shut there was a high pitched yelp of excitement and the door being thrown open again. This time, he lone Weasley daughter came barreling out with a manic grin on her face.

"Hermione!" she yelled happily, nearly toppling Hermione over when she was wrapped in Ginny's hug. "It's so fantastic that you could be here! I really do love those postcards you've sent me. I mean, obviously you can't write a lot on the bitty piece of paper. So I expect you to tell me _everything_ that has happened in the past few years. There is so much to catch up on. Like - "

"Your engagement?" Hermione asked, half playful, the other half accusatory. It was Draco Malfoy, after all.

Ginny smiled, before it faltered. "Oh dear... I left Draco inside with Mum. And Jonathan! Oh, Harry is going to _kill me_!"

With that she scampered off. Ron quickly explained that Draco was the one to teach Jonathan to call Harry 'Potter' rather than 'Dad.' While a lot of the family secretly found this amusing, Harry did not in the least. Since then, Harry has done all he could to keep Jonathan from being alone with Draco; this, apparently, was also Ginny's job.

"Hello, er... Hermione," said a voice that made Hermione tense involuntarily. Even six years after her last contact with Draco Malfoy, he could still instill a sense of wanting to beat him senseless with two simple words.

Hold on... _Hermione_?

She turned around, ready to greet him when she was wrapped in a very stiff, obviously uncomfortable hug. Was Draco Malfoy actually touching her, let alone hugging her? She responded with an equally uncomfortable pat on his back.

"Ginny told me to do that," he replied sullenly when the hug ended. "Said she wanted us to get any uncomfortable feelings out of the way. Personally, I think that made it worse."

"Promise you'll never do that again, Malfoy," Hermione said forcefully. Draco nodded and turned to Ginny who was surveying the exchange with curiosity on her face.

"She's determined to make us get along," Draco said quietly, still eyeing Ginny. "I told her she's wasting her time."

"Honestly, Malfoy, it has been six years," Hermione answered. "Though in my eyes I will always see you as the little prick who got his jollies by tormenting me and my friends and who aided a very evil man for much longer than I approve of... Ginny is taken by you. And Ginny is my friend. So for now, I will be civil. Do not expect me to instantly warm to you."

"Fair enough," Draco responded, nodding. "But in all fairness, you liked Snape. He and I are fairly similar. I am much more attractive, however."

"You're just ugly in a different way," Hermione retorted. "Plus, I never really _liked_ Snape. I respected him. And you have made some decisions in your past that I respect. I will always admire you for what you did for the Order in seventh year. But I will never forgive you for what you did in year one through six."

"Hermione!" Ginny cried, looking at the brunette with annoyance. "I know he was a complete ass to you. But... he did a lot. He risked his life for us! Can't that, for a week at least, overshadow everything else? I love him. I don't need you to love him, but if you could at least _like_ him. Ron does. And that would be sad if you managed to be more stubborn than Ron."

Hermione took a deep breath and stared at Draco. He still had light blond hair, grey eyes and a pointy little nose... but something was different, Hermione had to admit.

"I suppose," Hermione said. "It is good to see you, Draco."

"You too, Hermione," Draco said with equal amounts of enthusiasm; meaning none.

"You two are awful!" Ginny said angrily, grabbing Draco gruffly by the arm and dragging him into the house. Hermione couldn't help but laugh when Malfoy turned and smirked at her.

"He has a very odd inability to not let red-headed women boss him around," Ron said, laughing as well. "Ginny has Draco completely under her thumb and he really doesn't seem to mind that much."

"Maybe he's a masochist?" Hermione offered.

Ron laughed, and then realized the implications of this comment. He then looked horrified.

"Oh, I've missed you, Ron!" Hermione said, laughing. Ron threw an arm around her shoulders and escorted her and Luna back into the house where Bill and Fleur, Charlie and Tonks had arrived. Lavender was there as well. Hermione exchanged pleasantries with them until dinner was ready. Everyone laughed as Bill and Fleur's daughter Oriel wedged herself between Harry and Jonathan, seemingly taken with the younger Potter boy. A fact that Jonathan didn't seem to keen on. When Oriel sat down, Jonathan fixed his eyes - round in fear - on his father. Jonathan's dislike was later reinforced when Oriel pecked the boy on his cheek and Jonathan began wailing.

"Obviously he takes after Potter's abilities with women," Malfoy commented, making everyone laugh but Harry who was too busy trying to calm Jonathan down.

"Mama!" Oriel said, tears listening in her blue eyes (so like her mothers'). "Why doesn't he like me?"

Fleur smiled a very knowing smiled and said, "Give 'im time, Oriel. 'E is just a boy."

"If you are anything like your mother," Charlie said, laughing, "You won't have any problems getting the boys' attention."

"But I want Jonathan!" Oriel yelled. Hermione had a feeling that it wasn't often that Oriel didn't get what she wanted. She looked the part of a very spoiled little princess with her large blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair and clothing that had to be nicer than even what Hermione was wearing.

"Hermione, could you pass me the rolls?" Fred asked. Hermione was seated with Fred on her left, Ginny on her right. This odd seating arrangement just dawned on her; why wasn't she sitting next to Harry and Ron?

And then, right at the Weasley's dining room table, it finally hit her. They had lives. Yes, she knew Ron was engaged and Harry had Jonathan. But actually watching Ron talk with Luna, his hand gently laid over hers, his thumb stroking her palm; Harry bouncing Jonathan on his knee, convincing him in a soothing voice that it will be okay, the little girl won't hurt him. Even glancing down and seeing Malfoy's hand resting on Ginny's knee in a semi-private romantic gesture... all of it was too overwhelming for Hermione.

"Excuse me," Hermione managed, pushing herself out of her chair and hurrying out of the dining room.

"Fred!" Hermione heard Ron say. "What the hell did you say to her?"

But Hermione didn't hear Fred's answer. And the reason why became quickly apparent: he was standing in the kitchen with her, having followed her in after she abruptly left the dining room.

"Hermione," Fred began; his voice gentle. "If I'd have known those rolls had meant so much to you, I never would have asked you for them."

This made Hermione laugh and she finally turned to face Fred.

"It's not that, Fred," Hermione said quietly. "It's everything."

"Except the rolls."

Another laugh.

"Yes," she said. "Everything except the rolls."

This time it was Fred that laughed.

"It's... its just hard, seeing all of them," Hermione said. "How stupid is that? My _best friends_ are making _me_ upset because they are _happy_. All I ever wanted was for them - all of you, for that matter - to be happy. And now you are and I feel..."

"Feel what?" Fred prompted, sensing Hermione trailing off.

"It's too awful," Hermione insisted. "Never mind."

Fred looked at her with a 'yeah right' expression before walking over and leaning against the kitchen counter next to Hermione.

"I feel angry," Hermione continued, looking at Fred quickly, expecting to see a disgusted look across his face. Instead, she saw a comforting one, one that was urging her to continue explaining. So she continued. "Not really at you all. Mostly at myself. I really could have done a better job staying in touch but I just... didn't. There really isn't a good excuse. But honestly, part of me expected to come back just to how I had left it. With Ron trying desperately to find the best way to commit to Luna. To Ginny not being with _Malfoy_. Hell! To Ginny being still with Harry! Even to you and George still with just one joke shop."

"Oh, don't say my life is upsetting you," Fred said, placing a comforting arm around Hermione's shoulder. She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. "It really isn't all that glamorous. I rarely get to spend time in the shops anymore. Even less time is spent inventing. With George being so busy getting his life with Lavender in order, I am responsible for more. I have to _pay_ people to invent joke products now, that's how little time I had. I don't even get to do the fun part of my job anymore."

"I am sure that's really sad for you," Hermione said honestly, thinking of all the times she yelled at the twins for using their joke products on the younger students at Hogwart's.

"It gets worse," Fred continued. Hermione didn't say anything, a silent message to continue. "I," Fred paused dramatically, "have to wear a suit."

Hermione was silent for a moment, mulling over what Fred just said. Then, she bust out laughing.

"Shut up!" Fred said, but he was now laughing too. "It's awful wearing suits. Stupid newly progressive wizard world, shifting from dress robes to suits."

This only spurred Hermione to laugh more, and soon she and Fred both had tears of mirth welling in their eyes. It soon died off, though, and Fred began speaking again.

"It's been a long time since you've laughed," he said. It was a statement, not a question and its startling truth hit Hermione like a ton of bricks.

"No," she replied honestly. "I have been working so hard lately. It's like there is no time for laughter."

"There is _always_ time for laughter," Fred said, surprising Hermione with how serious he was. "If life ever gets too serious for you, just release a very loud, very mad sounding, cackle. Life's seriousness will diminish with astonishing speed."

Hermione was just about to say something else when the kitchen door swung open. It was Draco.

"Oh, sorry," he said, watching the two with interest. "Just came in because Mrs. Weasley wants the cake brought in. Thought I'd help her out, let her visit with the family. But if you two want to be alone..."

"Stuff it, Malfoy," Hermione replied. Fred however, straightened himself out and thanked Malfoy for helping out his mum and then walked back into the dining room, turning his head to smile at Hermione before the door swung shut again.

Hermione and Draco didn't exchange anymore words until Hermione was almost out of the kitchen entirely.

"Are you blind?" Draco said in almost a whisper.

"What?" Hermione asked against her better judgment.

Draco looked at her with his grey eyes, except for once there was no trace in them to show that he was making fun of her. Instead, they seemed to pity Hermione.

"Fred," Draco said. "Are you blind? Or are you just too wrapped up in your own misery to see how happy he was when talking to you?"

Shocked by this (especially having come from Draco), Hermione was quiet.

"Whatever, Malfoy," Hermione said, even though she knew how lame of a response that was.

"Just watch him," Draco said, grabbing the white-frosted cake from the counter. "I've been privy to seeing Fred over the past six years. Ever since his break up with Bethany, I've yet to see him that happy."

"Who's Bethany?" Hermione asked. No one had mentioned any Bethany over the course of the day, even when they had talked about Fred.

"Maybe you should be talking to Fred about this?" Draco asked. "As it is, would you really trust any information I, a _Malfoy_, would give to you?"

Hermione considered this, and then nodded. Draco smiled, catching Hermione so off guard that she smiled as well.

"Oh, my God! Is this a moment? A breakthrough in the Malfoy-Granger war?"

Both Draco and Hermione looked to the kitchen doorway to see Ginny with a huge grin on her face. She was looking at Hermione and Draco with such pride.

"I just came in to see where the cake was, Draco," Ginny explained. "I also wanted to see if you, Hermione, wanted to do some Christmas shopping tomorrow? I didn't know if you had any more shopping to do, but I do so..."

"No," Hermione said. "Oh, I have all of my shopping left to do. I didn't know who all was going to be here, who I needed to get gifts for. I would love to come with you."

"Fantastic!" Ginny said.

The three of them headed back into the dining room, Hermione taking her seat next to Fred. The pair caught each others' eyes throughout the rest of dinner, occasionally grinning at the other. Soon the conversations waned, the coffee and cocoa having been drunk and all the residents and guests of the Burrow headed up into their respective bedrooms.

As she drifted off easily into sleep, nagging thoughts about Fred and this Bethany girl began plaguing her mind. She promised herself to find out as much as she could tomorrow when she went shopping with Ginny. There was something so intriguing, so unfinished, about the topic. What had Bethany done to apparently make Fred so sad? And why was Hermione the one that was making him so happy?

-

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thanks to my 21 reviews (20 of which did _not_ annoy me). Thanks specifically to: **Courtney Anne**, **Mare Tranquillitatis**,** Kazte**, **Kaoru4**, **TomFeltonLova**, **coldie**** voldie**, **Jolly Rancher**, **topps**, **Purple Spotted Hedwig**, **HogwartzBoizRHottiez**, **LupinFan227**, **Alexandra5 **(great to hear from you again!), **Hiscefit**, **Seasonings**, **Tinkie192**, **Kon**** Shun'u**, **Cherdy**** the Molologist**, **Spordelia**** Chase**, and** TheEyeoftheTiger**.

Chapter three will be out soon, I hope. I work _a lot_ this weekend (all hail retail!) so writing time will be severely cut. But I'll update _The Lucky One _in a couple days, so look out for that as well.


	3. Much Mistletoeing 3

**Title**: _Much Mistletoeing_

**Author**: Sneezy Mouse

**Rating**: PG/PG-13 due to overwhelming Christmas fluff, slight inebriation, children out-of-wedlock (GASP!), naughty language, naughty situations (as well as some nice ones; it_ is_ Christmas after all), snogging, mistletoe and heavy sexual tension (as always...)

**Summary**: Best-selling author Hermione Granger has spent the past six years touring the world to showcase her novels. Now, she receives an out-of-the-blue letter asking her to join the Weasleys for Christmas at the Burrow. A fluffy, Christmas-y Fred/Hermione fic.

**Author's Note**: Okay, I totally love this chapter. This is the chapter with moment all you F/Hr's have been waiting for. And Christ is it fluffy. And romantic and – yes, this is bragging – based on personal experience. Enjoy!

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**Much Mistletoeing**

**● Chapter Three ●**

_"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,  
Just like the ones I used to know  
Where the treetops glisten and children listen  
To hear sleigh bells in the snow..."  
White Christmas, Irving Berlin_

December 20th

"So, Hermione," Ginny asked as the two girls stood outside of Gladrags in Hogsmeade, having just purchased a pretty cloak for Oriel. "You have traveled the world and are an international sensation."

"No, I am not dating anyone," Hermione said flatly. She assumed she correctly interpreted Ginny, as the redhead had quickly quieted, obviously taken aback by Hermione's intuition.

"Oh, for Lord's sake, Hermione," Ginny finally said as the two continued walking down the bustling High Street. "You don't have to be so bloody defensive. I was just wondering. I don't care. I just thought you probably haven't had a very good girl talk recently." Ginny paused, smiled and continued. "Of course, I'm not _as_ girly as, say, Lavender. But I can give it a shot."

Hermione laughed as well, her annoyance leaving her. Poor Ginny, having grown up with six older brothers, had never been much a girly girl. She preferred Quidditch to shopping, playing pranks more than primping. During school, the youngest Wesley got almost as much flack about needing a makeover as Hermione did. But Ginny had always been there when Hermione needed to have some girl time. Translation: complain about Ron.

"Ginny," Hermione replied. "I have been so busy with my writing that I haven't had any semblance of a relationship since Liam."

"Liam," Ginny repeated. "Now that is an attractive name."

"What?"

"Well," Ginny explained. "There are some names that instill the image of attractiveness. Such as Liam, Brent or, er… Draco." Hermione made a face. "And then there are, sadly, names that create an image of ugliness _or_ neediness. Like Melvin or Percy."

"Poor Percy," Hermione said. Ginny's eyes got wide at this; as if she had forgotten that she had an older brother by that name.

"Oh, I didn't mean that!" Ginny responded as Hermione began laughing. "There is obviously something about Percy that is attractive. After all, he landed Katie Bell."

Hermione's laughter faded and she considered what Ginny said before asking her question. "You mum mentioned something about Katie and Percy. How _did_ that happen, no offense to your brother or anything?"

"Of course not," Ginny said, pausing to look into a shop window at a new set of writing quills. "But I really don't know. One day, Percy came to dinner and brought a friend who turned out to be Katie. She came with him a few more times but not with enough regularity to merit any sort of relationship, according to mum. But then the visits became more frequent a Katie and Percy began to be closer – physically closer, that is. Mum said the Percy was constantly touching her hand and she would always push some curls out of eyes. It was all very sweet. There was never any sort of announcement on their part. No 'hey we're dating' or anything. She is so amazing for Percy. She helped him really loosen up. Or, as loose as my poor brother can get. He actually takes vacations and sick leaves now."

"Really?" Hermione said, actually surprised. Percy was always so diligent and obsessed with his career so many years ago.

"Yeah," Ginny said, pausing once again in front of a shop, this one called Wizards' Wardrobe, another apparel store. Judging from the jumpers in the window, Hermione figured it focused not on robes or cloaks but on casual attire.

"Oh, I need to buy that sweater for Draco," Ginny said, pointing to a dark red jumper. As the girls walked in, Ginny added, "He really doesn't like any colors other than green, grey and black. But I think red suits him. It reflects off of his skin giving him a bit of color. You know how pale he is."

Hermione bit her tongue, ready to make a remark about him being an albino ferret, but decided against it. Draco was being far more mature than Hermione was and damned if she was going to let him have the upper hand.

"He could use a bit of color," Hermione agreed.

Ginny surveyed Hermione for a moment before smirking in a very Draco-ish manner.

"Oh, go on."

"What?" Hermione asked.

"You know you want to say something snarky," Ginny continued, smiling when she saw Hermione's cheeks turn a faint ink shade from embarrassment. "Make your comment about him being a ferret. You know you want to."

Hermione stayed silent.

"You are incorrigible. Almost just like Ron," Ginny added, plucking a jumper in Draco's size from the shelf and holding it up against her. "Except Ron treats him a lot better than you do, I must say."

"In my defense, Ginny, this Draco business was a complete surprise to me," Hermione argued, adding before Ginny could rebut, "Yes, I know. I was aware of his, what would you like to call it? Side switching?"

"His mother was killed, his father driven insane; what else was he supposed to do?"

"Is that what happened?" Hermione asked, freezing in shock. She hadn't been aware of the true reasoning behind Draco's joining the Order of the Phoenix.

"Yes, didn't anyone ever tell you that?" Ginny asked, equally shocked that Hermione hadn't known. Hermione shook her head. "Good heavens! Do you remember how that foul Black house elf Kreacher had been passing along bits of information to Narcissa, Draco's mum? Well, You-Know-Who was very pleased at this and exploited it to get Harry to the Department of Mysteries. _But_, not only did You-Know-Who not get Harry or the Prophecy, he decided that Narcissa should be punished."

"Oh, dear," Hermione said quietly, now actually feeling pain for Draco.

"He wasn't very rational after that, apparently. He was blaming everyone but himself for the unsuccessfulness of that night. So he killed her one night while Lucius Malfoy was off doing Death Eater business. When Lucius came home, he was devastated that his wife had died. Began trying to curse You-Know-Who in retaliation. So You-Know-Who Crucio'd him until he lost all mental control. Lucius Malfoy is now no healthier than Neville Longbottom's parents."

At this point in the tale, Hermione could feel her eyes stinging, knowing that at least one tear had escaped down her cheek. A new respect for Draco now encompassed Hermione and she had the strong urge to hug him at the moment.

"I had no idea," Hermione admitted.

"I don't mean to be rude, Hermione," Ginny responded. "But you never really tried to find out. You never gave him a chance to explain it. Neither you nor Harry and Ron. I mean, I can see how there would have been some reluctance. After all, he had been a completely immature little bastard to you all – myself included – since he met you. He was forced to deal with adult issues as abruptly as Harry was. Not to take away from the terribleness of which Harry's life had been."

As Ginny walked away to pay for her Christmas gift for Draco, Hermione stayed quiet. Not only did she feel respect for Draco, but she also felt incredibly guilty. Ginny was right of course; Hermione never really gave Draco a chance. She never thought he had joined to Order as a spy or double agent because Draco never seemed smart or cunning enough to handle that sort of secret and responsibility. And knowing this, she now felt incredibly stupid for not getting the real story.

Guilt and stupidity really aren't the best feelings to be feeling around the holidays, so Hermione requested a better tale. One she knew to have a happy ending. So she asked Ginny to tell her how Draco and she began dating. Smiling at this request, Ginny seemed more than eager to divulge this, as though she had been waiting all day for this question to be asked.

"I remember," Ginny began strongly. It was obvious this tale had been told many times before, often as an explanation, Hermione assumed. "It was during the Christmas holidays during my seventh year. I was a little disappointed because you were going to France with your parents so I would be all alone. Because Harry and Ron would go off and be boys and generally ignore me.

"And much to the anger and hatefulness of _everyone_ – once again, myself included – Mum decided to invite Draco to have Christmas dinner with us. She thought it a nice thing to do, seeing as how everyone Draco had befriended during school was either dead, in prison, awaiting a trial or on the run. He reluctantly accepted only after Mum had run into him in Diagon Alley and all but ordered him to come. It was so amazingly awkward with him there. Mum had made us all swear up and down that 'we were not to be mean to the poor child. He has been through almost as much as we have.' So instead of being mean to him, we simply ignored him. Except for Christmas Eve night."

"What happened?" Hermione asked, finally speaking. The two girls were now seated on a bench outside the clothing shop, resting as Ginny spoke. The weather had shifted from a just-rained dampness to a bitter cold. Hermione would have bet all her money that she could smell the snow in the air.

"I walked down from my room since I had left the book I was reading earlier on the chair by the fireplace. As I walked down the stairs, I saw Malfoy standing a few steps away from the Christmas tree, holding two bags. I just stopped and watched him, knowing that my presence would do nothing but annoy him. As the fire faded, I watched as Draco placed ten packages under the tree. One in each of the small piles we had created for each of us Weasley's, including Mum and Dad. At this point, I'll add, it was still just a Weasley Christmas. There were no fiancés or girlfriends present.

"Draco had bought us all gifts. And the next morning, when we opened them, we realized that not only had he gotten us gifts, he had gotten us _good _gifts. Things that we really wanted or needed but thus far had not received. It was almost simultaneous that everyone in the family realized that Draco had to have spent all the time he spent with us observing and paying close attention to give us such amazingly perfect gifts. We stopped ignoring him almost immediately after. Harry and Ron actually presented him with a gift they had purchased. It was so heartwarming; so perfectly Christmas. I still have the watch he gave me," Ginny finished, shoving her left wrist under Hermione's face.

It was a very simple silver watch with a dark blue face and silver numerals. After placing her glove back on her hand, covering the watch, Ginny finished her story, explaining that the rest of their relationship had been cliché.

"We did nothing but get on each others' nerves. We'd insult each other constantly before finally owning up to how we felt and going on a date. For a few months we kept it all quiet, just because we didn't want to cause a fuss since we didn't know what was going to happen between us. But after realizing how surprisingly right we were for each other, we exposed our affair to the family.

"Of course no one was completely excited at the idea, but we weren't faced with much opposition. It was very boring after that, I am sad to say. We dated for a year and half before we moved in together. After that, it was another year and a half until we were engaged. And now, we've been engaged for two months."

"Any plans for the wedding yet?" Hermione asked, wondering if she would be free to come to the wedding.

Ginny shook her head.

"We honestly haven't really talked much about it," Ginny answered. "I want to wait for Ron and Luna to get married before Draco and I begin discussing it. And despite what Draco would want to do, I intend to have very small ceremony, hopefully in the Burrow's back yard. Just family and close friends. But, being a Malfoy, Draco believes we should show off. He still hasn't lost his arrogance, in case you didn't notice," Ginny added to Hermione.

"Oh," Hermione answered, smiling. "I noticed."

"But honestly, he has changed," Ginny defended.

Hermione hesitated before reluctantly saying, "I know. It's just… hard, I guess. Even still today it's hard to adjust. But I am trying. I promise."

"I know," Ginny responded, standing up from the bench. "And I understand."

Hermione followed Ginny as she walked around the street. The two continued chatting, but Hermione couldn't help but notice strain in their relationship. It was something that Hermione wished she could breach, but she couldn't help but feel a bit stubborn when it came to liking Draco. So Hermione thought that the best decision would be to bring up a new subject. Unfortunately, Hermione didn't get as much information as she had hoped.

"Ginny?"

"Hm?" Ginny asked, stopping to smell a bouquet of holiday flowers.

Hermione fiddled with one of the petals and asked, "Who is Bethany?"

"Bethany." Ginny phrased it as a statement, as if she knew exactly what Hermione was asking but was trying to think of an appropriate response.

"Hermione," Ginny finally answered. "If you want to know about Bethany, I am afraid you are going to have to ask Fred. I shouldn't be saying anything. It's really hard for me to give you an unbiased opinion of that stupid bint."

"Okay." Hermione let go of the flower and after realizing she had ripped it off the stem, Hermione purchased the small bouquet from the vendor.

"I'll ask Fred," Hermione repeated, gazing at the Christmas red flowers she had in her hand.

**●**

It was two a.m. and Hermione was sill awake. It wasn't as if she wasn't used to sleeping in foreign beds. After all, for the past few years she has been globetrotting, sometimes every night for week sleeping in a different hotel, a different bed. Compared to that, the Burrow bed she was sleeping in was the most familiar, considering she had slept on it many a time in her school days. But something was not right, and Hermione could not seem to place what that was. The most logical part of her mind said that she was just wound up – the last few days had been very exciting, what with seeing all of her old friends and almost-family again. Hermione and Tonks had a brilliant conversation over dinner which made Hermione wonder why she had all but ended contact with the woman. She was like Hermione's older sister which wasn't surprising since she was almost Ginny's sister-_in-law_.

But then, there was that _other_ part of her brain; the one that picked out your most secret thoughts and displayed them so that was all you could think about. And what Hermione was thinking about was how she had not been able to talk to Fred. At all. He was always jabbering away with his brothers or – to Hermione's shock – joking around with Malfoy as if they had been old friends. Well, of course they were old friends. Draco actually _had_ contact with Fred for the past six years. And then Hermione was just basically catching up with everyone else, telling almost the same story over ten times, each to new people.

And yet she never talked to Fred. And Bethany was still a complete mystery to her. Obviously, she had some connection with Fred and if Hermione _had_ to guess, it was probably a romantic one at that.

So due to her mind being a muddled mess of thoughts, Hermione decided to get up and do what she did every other night when she couldn't sleep: she wrote. And write she did. It was almost dawn when Hermione looked up from her desk and saw that a very faint trace of light began to peak over the hills. Feeling nostalgic, she walked over to the door, mindful of the old and creaky boards. As she peeked through the calico curtains, Hermione had to stifle a gasp (after all, Ginny was sleeping just a ways away – like she and Draco would have been able to share a bed).

It was snowing. And by the looks of the ground, had been for a few hours. It took all her will not to prance about the room and find her boots; it had been ages since Hermione had seen snow. It was almost perfect that Hermione was to experience a good snow along with all of her old friends. It just felt right.

So, properly bundled, Hermione sneaked out of the bedroom and down the stairs to the back door. When her boot sank into the snow almost to her ankle, Hermione jumped full force into the snow, giggling like an imbecile. She twirled and smiled to herself, humming a few bars of some her favorite Christmas tunes.

"That's one of my favorites."

The sudden voice that caught Hermione mid-twirl almost caused her to lose balance, but she saved herself with some flailing arm movements and a step forward.

"Fred," Hermione said, smiling. "You startled me."

"Well," he replied, standing up from his chair. "It didn't seem right to interrupt you in such a moment of sheer joy."

Hermione glanced at the chair, and then at Fred. The chair did not have a single flake of snow on it, yet Fred had obviously been outside awhile.

"It began snowing at around four," Fred commented, staring up into the sky. "I had gotten up to go to the loo when I looked outside and saw the beginnings of some flakes. I've been sitting out here ever since."

"You must be _freezing_," Hermione replied, now noticing how she could not feel the tips of her ears or her nose.

"I am a wizard, Hermione," Fred replied, laughing as he pulled a chunk of snow out of Hermione's hair. "It's called a warming spell."

The both laughed slightly at this before falling into a pensive silence. Hermione surveyed her surroundings and noted that the sun had begun to come up a bit more. She could clearly see the snow hanging onto the green trees and saw that Fred had acquired some flakes in his hair and on the shoulders of his coat. As the sun began to rise even more, everything seemed to be sparkling, including Fred.

"I am witch," Hermione said suddenly as she continued to stare in awe at the wonderland around her. "And have been so – at least known so – since I was eleven. I myself have been privy to charms, enchantments, potions… everything a person thinking about the wizarding world could imagine. But never, in my entire life, have I experienced something as magical as this."

Fred looked at her softly and Hermione was sure he was going to laugh. She couldn't help but realize how stupid she must have sounded. However, he didn't laugh. Instead, he agreed.

"You sort of lose touch with these kinds of moments," Fred added to Hermione's thoughts. "You grow up and these moments become memories. Memories that don't even feel real anymore."

"Profound," Hermione replied with a wry grin.

"I try, you know," Fred responded, a grin also on his face.

This was the moment. The best moment to just come right out and say it.

"Who is Bethany?" Hermione asked, then after seeing Fred's body visibly tense, immediately regretted it. "I am sorry," she added quickly. "I shouldn't have. It's none of my business."

"Did Ginny mention something?" Fred asked, not unkindly.

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle before saying, "No. It was Draco."

Fred nodded, pondering this.

"Its weird," Fred said, distant yet still seeming as though there was a story he was about to tell. "For many years I despised Draco, just because he was a git to us and because his last name was 'Malfoy.' Then, I despised him because he switched sides and I couldn't hate him for being evil anymore. Then I hated him because he was seeing Ginny. But after everything with Bethany – and this is going to be a bit scary – I think Draco may be closer to me than George even."

Hermione was silent.

"George is one of those people that constantly will ask, 'Are you okay?' and no matter how many times I say I am fine, or that I don't want to talk about it, he persists," Fred continued. "And it annoys the hell out of me. I tried to deny it when Ginny said he was a good man. She constantly raved about how he was able to _sense_ people and… and dammit, she was right. It's weird."

"And what are you going through?" Hermione asked, knowing that this was an okay question to ask, given the circumstances.

"A massive feeling of rejection," Fred said simply.

Once again, Hermione stayed quiet in a silent urge to continue.

"About four years ago, I met a girl," Fred stated. "Obviously, her name was Bethany. I had been doing the whole serial dating thing and had finally hit that point when I realized I wanted a girlfriend, someone serious. And Bethany was it. I don't want to bore you with takes of our dates or sappy memories of how she made me feel – because she made me feel bloody _fantastic_ when I woke up and she was there next to me. Because all of that is inconsequential. All that leads up to the simple fact that I loved her. A lot. And she loved me. Or, she did."

Hermione suddenly realized that this story was going to have a very heartbreaking ending.

"About two and half years ago, I was in love," Fred continued. "I was in stupid, fluffy, kick-me-in-the-crotch-and-I'll-still-be-smiling love. So I did what any fool in love would do when they had found their perfect girl who loved you back. I proposed."

Hermione felt her heartbreak knowing what was coming.

"And she said no. She just… didn't want to. She said no, explained that I wasn't nearly as exciting as I used to be, and left. Oh, and ripped my heart out of my chest, boiled it in acid and then force fed it to me. Can't forget that part."

Hermione took a step towards Fred and gave him a hug. She couldn't think of a single word to say that could help ease that pain, though Fred seemed to have dealt with it somewhat. So she gave him a hug, because she remembered that sometimes the simplest gesture can mean the most.

"God," Fred said as they stayed in the embrace. "That was the first time I told that story and didn't feel like I was reliving it. Wasn't nearly as painful."

"That's good, then, right?" Hermione questioned.

Fred finally ended the hug and replied, "That's wonderful. Thanks. I don't know what you did, but thank you."

"You're welcome," Hermione replied. "And for the record, Bethany must have been crazy to let you go."

Fred nodded and asked, "Why do you say that?"

"If you are looking for me to list all your wonderful, charming qualities, forget it," Hermione answered, giving him a playful little shove.

Fred laughed and turned away, glancing towards away from the house and out into the massive space that stretched into the distance, empty except for the faint traces of Ottery St. Catchpole's clock and bell tower and church steeple.

She was so caught up in her scenery and the story Fred told and the moments that had just occurred that she never realized she had said what she was about to say out loud before it was too late.

"I wouldn't have said no."

Immediately, her eyes widened and she looked to Fred. Embarrassment was spreading from her toes to her face, the latter of which she could feel turning red at an alarming rate. She did _not_ just say that, did she? But instead of saying anything, or smiling or laughing or doing any of the things Hermione thought he would do, Fred did the one thing that she had secretly wanted but feared he would.

He kissed her.

It was soft, tentative at first as though Fred expected Hermione to pull away. And she wanted to because this was far from appropriate. But then she wondered how it was inappropriate and couldn't come up with a good enough response, so she let herself fall into the kiss. With her submission to her feelings, the kiss became passionate, Fred's hands creeping up her back to finally stop in her hair. Hermione had placed her hands on Fred's shoulders, letting her body fall into his and let him hold her up because her knees were scaring her, going weak and all, and she feared that if he were to stop kissing her, she would tumble to the ground and not ever stop falling.

Except she already was falling.

And despite how wrapped up they were in each other, in that moment, a small sound from the kitchen caused then to break apart. And without another word, just eye contact that seemed to say all that needed to be said at that time, Hermione rushed inside. She muttered a quick 'Good morning' to Molly and chirped about the snow and how exciting it was before fleeing upstairs to let herself sort out all the buzzing feelings she had racing through her mind and veins and body like electricity.

But as soon as she opened her bedroom door, she knew that she wouldn't be able to sort them out by herself.

"Okay," Ginny said, propping herself up even more on Hermione's bed. "Spill."

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**Author's Note**: So, I hope you all enjoy Christmas fics in January because I was _so wrong_ when I said I'd have it done by Christmas. I am going to try and crank out at least another chapter, maybe two, by Christmas but it won't be finished probably until January. Sorry. And thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews because they mean so much to me. I am so excited by the prospect that I might break a hundred by chapter four, maybe even this chapter if I am lucky.

I also hope that you all liked my fluffy kissing scene. I tried not to be too romance-novely, but I wanted enough feeling and imagery to make it appropriate. Not just 'and they kissed with passion before springing apart at a noise from the house.' I probably overdid it, but I enjoyed it. Hope you all did too!

Oh, and sorry for the no update on the Lucky One. This weekend, I promise.


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